


Dreams that you dare to dream

by glovered



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Fairy Tales, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-10
Updated: 2012-03-10
Packaged: 2017-11-01 18:11:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/359764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glovered/pseuds/glovered
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen is directed to a tower where he's supposed to save a princess. Jared, the tower construction worker, happens to be fixing the window sill just as Jensen climbs in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreams that you dare to dream

Jensen had a reputation to uphold, true, but a two-day ride through the forest on his favorite horse hadn't exactly been a chore. And now, one o'clock in the afternoon, and he'd just had a snack of fine cheese, unwrapped from waxed paper and sliced with his boot knife, and his fingers were reddened from the cherries he'd popped into his mouth, one by one, lounging in a dell while bunnies nuzzled him. He kind of loved his life.

After cantering for five minutes and jumping the rogue tree root, he drew his reins tight at the base of a stone tower.

He shielded his eyes and got a crick in his neck trying to see the top. "What do you think, Lilah? Think your master can rescue the damsel?"

His horse neighed.

Jensen dismounted and rolled his shoulders, and unpacked his gear with the calm assurance of one highly competent. He was younger brother to the crown prince, so had been trained in all secondary skills, including adventure-style sports like dragon slaying and jousting. The problem was, he didn't usually succeed at the task set for him. He was a dreamer. He'd met a dragon two months ago and ended up helping it organize its gold, spending a good two hours holding tiaras and rings up to the dragon's scales for purposes of matching.

But today...well, tower climbing was strenuous but there wasn't much to distract you.

"Ground to window, don't lose your grip in the middle stretch." He ticked the steps off on his fingers. "Make your presence known when you're on the final stretch, hoist yourself up onto the window sill and kiss the damsel." 

He looked up and lo, in the window he espied a chestnut head of hair before it disappeared again.

"Sweet providence has smiled on me," Jensen said to himself, for although there wasn't much chance of the princess being absent from the tower she'd been put in, it was nice to have some proof that she was awake and not, as was sometimes the case, asleep. That was a whole different code of conduct.

He took out his iron picks and pulled on his favorite pair of deerskin gloves. 

"Easy peasey," he said, and stabbed a pick into the crack between tower stones. "Just you wait, princess," he grunted as he fisted the second pick and jammed it into the next crack up. "I got it. Totally got this one."

The cotton of Jensen's loose shirt ruffled in the afternoon air. His arms strained. He was up six feet two inches in no time, and then two times his height just as quick. His pace was steady and sure.

He climbed for nigh on twenty minutes like this before he reached the half-way point, at which time he hung there, a toe wedged in the crack of the stone, his forehead resting against his quivering arm. He took in a few deep breaths. The air smelled of daisies and fresh tread grass, carried by the breeze that flitted and cooled the sweat on the back of his neck and the damp of his lower back. He whistled between his teeth and a bird delivered a leaf of water to his parched lips. He sipped and said, "thank you," even though birds couldn't understand human language.

At the four-fifths point, Jensen took a breath before shouting, "Salutations!"

There was a stretch of silence, before a voice yelled back, "pardon?"

The voice was gorgeous, clear. Jensen didn't have enough strength to look up again, so he kept on climbing and said, "I'm here to help you."

"Oh! Right!" said the voice, and Jensen looked up at this, because something was off. "You the water guy?"

Jensen almost let go, but for the promise of a long drop.

A guy with fabulous hair that Jensen had mistaken for princess locks was grinning down at him. His shoulder muscles were bulging. "Because this tower...well...as far as I know there isn't any running water."

Jensen wasn't quite sure what to make of the fact that a princess was a hot guy. It was better than fine by him, but—well, his parents had sent him to rescue the princess, and so he was gonna do it. He continued climbing.

"You know there's a door round back, yeah?"

"I," he gasped. "Am Prince Jensen."

"You okay there? You sound out of breath."

"Nnngh," Jensen said, and wasn't beyond accepting the arm up when the guy extended it.

Gotta follow through, he told himself, so when he'd swung his legs over the ledge, he grabbed the guy by the face and laid one on him before they talked any further.

Jensen wasn't the one to make a strangled noise this time. After ten seconds that stretched like an eternal summer, he pulled away. He licked his lips and was about to make his post-kiss spiel when the guy shoved him up against the wall beside the window and kissed him again. Jensen groaned, body all over the place from climbing for the better part of an hour and now being groped by someone in a wife-beater. He held desperately to the guy's shoulders, as the guy pushed a knee between his legs.

"I'm Jared," the guy said, and bit Jensen's earlobe.

"Jensen," he managed, even as Jared was nosing his jaw. 

It took admirable strength to get the next words out, but in the name of propriety!

"Well, princess." He pulled Jared even closer by the tool belt, because there were no rules about physical distance. He declared against Jared's mouth, "I, second in line for the throne, am here to rescue you. Among other amenities, I can offer you gold and a private swimming pool off your chambers. If this suits you, together we will—ah. We will ride back to my kingdom and be wed two Thursdays hence."

"I'm not a princess," Jared maybe tried to argue, apparently modest, but he didn't follow up for a long time he was so enchanted, or possibly because of Jensen's tongue in his mouth. In any case, he finally broke away and said, wildly, "I have a hammer!"

"I can tell." Which was lewd and unbecoming of a prince, but it was welcome, judging by the flush along Jared's neck and the way he started dragging Jensen to the pink, four-poster in the center of the room.

They did it on the feather mattresses, sunk into fifteen pillows, Jared saying foolish things like "I'm just the tower carpenter" against Jensen's skin, and Jensen totally down for roleplay. 

At some point, a warm, summer rain burst from sudden clouds, and the room smelled of afternoon storm.

The princess found them later. The bed sheets were kicked off to the floor, and she pinned Jared with a smirk.

"I told you this would happen if you stuck your head out that window."

Jensen looked at the woman from where he was collapsed on the bed, covered in pillows. She was upside down, with a mass of dark curls piled on top of her head and affixed by a sapphire-encrusted tiara. She reminded him of his sister.

"I am Prince Jensen," he said.

"Yes, sent to rescue me. To explain: your mother sent word, explaining her feelings on the matter. Based on your preferences, we thought it would be best if—" she waved a scarf in Jared's direction. "And I'm bogged down in pharmaceutical work. I hope you don't mind."

"Right, right," said Jensen. "Of course."

"Back to the lab and all that."

She gave them a wave, and shut the door behind her.

"God save the queen," Jared said when Jensen rolled him up in the duvet.

It was like a fairy tale. Happily ever after was impending. Jensen ran his fingers through Jared's hair and kissed his nose. Now, pan to the window, then out, where a rainbow paints itself across the cyan sky.


End file.
